Sometimes I Wish I Were a Man.....

Not really, but sometimes I wish I at least had a wife. Or a personal assistant. Or a Sherpa.

Packing for Hubby is so easy.

[And yes, I pack his clothes anytime he goes out of town, whether I'm going with him or not. And I'm not embarrassed to admit it. Much.]

We're going to be gone three days, so I throw in three pairs of shorts and three golf shirts that match. He wouldn't even care if they didn't match, but I do. I usually pack at least one UGA shirt when we're going out of state. A couple of t-shirts for walking on the beach in the morning, socks, underwear, bathing suits, he's done.

Packing for myself is much more complicated. And I am not ..... I repeat NOT ..... fashion-conscious. I pack shorts and t-shirts for walking on the beach or hanging out during the day, but it's not the sort of thing I would wear to dinner. Or the casino. So I have to pack for daytime and nighttime. With an extra outfit thrown in for safe measure. Just in case someone sneaks an extra day in on me somewhere. Flip-flops for the beach and pool, sneakers for walking, and don't even get me started on the necessity for a separate pair of shoes for each outfit. This time I didn't go that route; I'm taking one pair of white sandals, and they have to go with everything. Two swimsuits ..... okay, three because I couldn't decide ..... and a cover-up. Every bra I own because I can never remember which ones are really comfortable, and I didn't feel like trying them on. Two pairs of underwear for every day, because you can't go walk on the beach and then change into a swimsuit and then put the SAME UNDERWEAR back on to go to dinner. Sorry if that's TMI. A couple of bandanas, socks for the sneakers, sports bras for walking. My toiletries bag and make-up case.

We will take no fewer than 6 bags with us in the morning, by the time we load up the suitcases (2), the laptop, my CPAP machine, a bag of snacks because Hubby evidently thinks we're going to run the risk of starving to death way off in the wilds of ..... Florida. A bag with our swim things in it because we might not be able to check in right away. A cooler. Or two.

I TOLD him we should rent a motorhome.